


Love Perseveres.

by PeachGO3



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Episode: s01e06 The Very Last Day of the Rest of Their Lives, Fluff, Introspection, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-07-08 16:41:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19872754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeachGO3/pseuds/PeachGO3
Summary: “They won’t need us, they’re frozen in time,” Crowley uttered, his temptation as strong as ever. It pulled Aziraphale closer, it whispered in the leaves around them and danced in the sunrays on his skin. It rested in the hand Crowley brought up to his cheek.– Lyrics are from Two Thousand Years by Billy Joel.





	Love Perseveres.

“Come up with something!” Aziraphale cries. Then he looks at his sword, thoughtfully, but scared. And he adds, weary, “Or I’ll never talk to you again.”

The Earth is shaking, but Crowley stills. In all of his thousands of years on Earth, he has only messed with the concept of time once. He could’ve done it more often. But it was a complicated task, there were many things to consider. When Aziraphale was about to get discorporated by the guillotine back in Paris, Crowley had used his magic to freeze everything and rescue the silly angel, and that had been complicated enough. But worth it, no doubt.

And now, when about to face Satan, threatened to lose Earth, to lose his angel, Crowley finally does the real thing – stop the flow of time. He forces himself up, screams as the magic pulls him up, fighting against Satan’s powers that keep crushing him to the ground.

Time, huh?

_In the Beginning_  
_There was the cold and the night_  
_Prophets and angels gave us the fire and the light_  
_Man was triumphant_  
_Armed with the faith and the will_  
_Even the darkest ages couldn't kill_

How much time has passed since then? Since the Garden? Six thousand years, yeah, sure. But how long was that?

Six thousand years. That was wild, considering most humans didn’t even live for one century. And still it was far too little time. Oh, so little.

Six thousand years. When the first storm ever had come on. When Aziraphale had given away his flaming sword and Crowley had felt himself fall for this nervous, compassionate angel, the angel who shielded him with his wing. It had begun there and then, Crowley’s growing love for Aziraphale. Grew and grew, from one surprisingly strong grain into a beautiful and lush forest, as they watched humanity grow alongside them. It had been nice.

_Too many kingdoms_  
_Too many flags on the field_  
_So many battles_  
_So many wounds to be healed_

They’ve seen so many kingdoms come and fall. So many eras come and go. Countless diseases and wars. Whole cultures vanishing. But only these two – only he and Aziraphale have been here for so long. Only they knew what life on Earth was like for six thousand years. Aziraphale was all he ever had, and he was all that was left for him now.

Crowley faltered. He realised that his plan had worked – enough magic to stop the flow of time. A jungle? Nice. Birds were singing and leaves whispered peacefully. Crowley grinned briefly as he remembered how much fun messing with time and space could be, but then he panicked. Where was the boy? And where was Aziraphale?

Spinning around, he finally felt the familiar love waves on his skin again. Aziraphale was standing in the green midst of all the lush plants and flowers, eyes closed. Crowley tumbled closer, grabbing both of his arms, trembling. He had to wake him up.

  
_Time is relentless_  
_Only true love perseveres_  
_It's been a long time and now I'm with you_  
_After six thousand years_

“Aziraphale.”

The angel opened his eyes at the tender call of his name. He blinked, but then his eyes found Crowley’s yellow ones, and they smiled just as bright as his mouth at the sight of his demon. “Crowley,” he said happily, wanting to take his hands, but then he realised he carried his sword. He looked at it with horror. It reminded him of why they were here. Or…

“Why _are_ we here, Crowley?” he asked.

The demon’s eyes were fluttering with fear. He struggled to speak, but Aziraphale did his best to comfort him. “I’ve done it,” Crowley uttered, “I’ve bought us time, angel.”

“I can see that,” Aziraphale smiled, looking around. This was the single most beautiful place he’d ever been to – and he has been to oh, so many places. The Library of Alexandria. The cherry blossom fields of Sakurajima. The Hanging Gardens of Babylon. But nothing was quite as fulfilling, living and peaceful as being right here with Crowley. The air was so, so sweet. It was surreal.

“My dear,” he began, but Crowley was still shaking with fear. “Angel,” he whispered, “let’s stay. Let’s stay here. I can do it, do you hear me? With you here, I’ve got enough energy to keep time like this. Forever.” His eyes fixated Aziraphale in their snake-like manner, that Aziraphale loved so much, because it was so very much like Crowley.

No, he had to react! Shaking his head, Aziraphale intervened: “Crowley, no, the boy needs us. The world needs us. We cannot give up now.”

“They won’t need us, they’re frozen in time,” Crowley uttered, his temptation as strong as ever. It pulled Aziraphale closer, it whispered in the leaves around them and danced in the sunrays on his skin. It rested in the hand Crowley brought up to his cheek. Aziraphale was overwhelmed by the situation. Six thousand years of flawless time, and now it would stop because of their own egos?

He knew it was wrong – this couldn’t be right – but he couldn’t help but melt against the tender touch of his demon’s hand cupping his cheek. Couldn’t help but inhale the sweet smell surrounding them. He, too, wanted this moment to drag on, forever, if possible. A moment of their own where he could be vulnerable and himself. Wasn’t this all he ever wanted?

_This is our moment_  
_Here at the crossroads of time_

“Crowley,” he whispered, feeling the sword slip out of his hand and grabbing it before it could fall onto the ground, “stop, please. We have to do something.”

He heard Crowley weep. “No. No… Why would you say that?”

“Because we can’t stay here,” Aziraphale said and opened his eyes to fixate Crowley’s. He stroked the rough hand on his cheek with great tenderness.

“Let’s stay,” begged the demon, hand shaking, “let’s stay here. In our Eden.”

Aziraphale breathed heavily. “No,” he said with emphasis. “They need us. The boy needs us. We owe them, don’t you think?”

“But we _deserve_ _this_ ,” Crowley wept and waved his hand around.

“Maybe we do,” Aziraphale said thoughtfully. “But we have to get this straight first. For Adam. Don’t you think so?”

_We hope our children carry our dreams down the line_  
_They are the vintage_  
_What kind of life will they live?_  
_Is this a curse or a blessing that we give?_

Yes, Crowley did thought so. He, too, knew that they owed the Antichrist. The kid had gotten them into so much trouble, yes, but he was still a kid. An eleven-year-old could not possibly understand all of this Biblical nonsense. Who else could help him? He needed them. There was no way he could cope with all of this on his own.

And he didn’t have to, Crowley thought. He could be frozen in time. And not know a thing about what’s next, because there would be no next. There would be Paradise for Crowley and Aziraphale. Nothing more. Crowley knew he was being selfish. And, deep down, he also knew that he could never live with the knowledge of having robbed a child of his future, of having robbed Earth her chance to – maybe – survive the Celestial War.

“We have to try, Crowley,” Aziraphale whispered against Crowley’s lips as their foreheads touched. “We will lose,” Crowley cried, tugging at the angel’s sleeves.

Aziraphale breathed in. “Even if that would be certain, we still would’ve tried to right these wrongs.”

“What’s the use in that?”

“Easy,” Aziraphale said, pulling away to smile at Crowley. “It’s the right thing to do. Isn’t it? Out of all people, you should know.”

Crowley’s eyes were restless. “You’re just as unsure about this as I am,” he uttered.

“Of course I am,” Aziraphale snapped. “I can’t see into the future! I just want you to buck up, Crowley! For crying out loud.” That was what he said, the most compassionate angel of all. And Crowley nodded. The green leaves flew into the sky, and as Crowley sucked in a breath, Aziraphale pressed their foreheads together for a last time.

_Sometimes I wonder_  
_Why are we so blind to fate?_  
_Without compassion, there can be no end to hate_  
_No end to sorrow_  
_Caused by the same endless fears_  
_Why can't we learn from all we've been through_  
_After six thousand years?_

“Adam, listen.” That was the angel in black speaking. Well, a former angel, Adam thought. His angelic energy was worn down. But he wasn’t a real monster either. Adam knew there was something odd about these two men. When he turned to look at the demon, he could’ve sworn that he just covered a pair of bright yellow eyes with his shades. But he could be wrong.

“Your father is coming to destroy you. Probably to destroy all of us,” the demon continued. Adam wanted to ask a lot of questions (starting with where all the others had gone and what they had done wrong to get destroyed), but the thing that struck him the most was – his father?

“My dad?” he asked, picturing him breaking through the earth to yell at them. Ridiculous. “He wouldn’t hurt anybody.”

“Not your Earthly father,” the demon specified, “but Satan.” His whole body was so tense that Adam believed him immediately. Even though this was complete rubbish. That rumble from the ground was the devil? The real one?

“I mean your father who is no longer in Heaven. He is coming, and he is angry.”

Yeah. And? “So what do you want me to do about it?” Adam shrugged. “Fight him?” Like the bloody power rangers? With just these two by his side? The demon seemed to know that, too. “I don’t think fighting him would do any good,” he sighed. “You’re gonna have to come up with something else.”

Adam turned around. They were is a desert, but it was oddly cold. Was it that cold in deserts? He’s never been to one, so how could he possibly know? And how could he fight the devil? How could he stop him from killing all his friends? He still wanted to do so many things with Pepper, Wensley and Brian. They wanted to play Spanish Inquisition again. Especially now that Witch Anathema was around. But they would all be gone. Dog, too.

Adam was scared. “I’m just a kid,” he said.

“But that’s not a bad thing to be, Adam.” That must be the other angel, the one with the white wings. The one that had been sharing a body with the lady. He had the sword, so he was a fighter, surely. But he didn’t make any sense either. Being a child was bad enough when you got into trouble with grown-ups – but with the devil?

“You know,” the angel continued, “I was scared that you’d be Hell incarnate. I hoped you’d be Heaven incarnate. But you’re not either of those things.”

Well, duh, Adam thought. Of course he wasn’t. No one was.

“You’re much better. You’re human incarnate,” the angel said. He gave his friend a knowing look. So they did know what to do! “Adam, reality will listen to you right now, you can change things,” the demon assured him.

“And whatever happens,” his friend added, “for good or for evil…” They both took his hands, one creature on either side. “We are beside you.”

Adam looked forward. The sky was turning. “I’m gonna start time,” the demon said, spreading his dark wings just as far as the angel did. “You won’t have long to do whatever you’re going to do.”

He whirled the thing in his hand to spin the sky faster. His hand burned in Adam’s. The air around them rumbled, the wind twirled, and Adam felt his feet being swept away – but the hands held him. He did not fall.

_There will be miracles_  
_After the last war is won_  
_Science and poetry rule in the new world to come_  
_Prophets and angels_  
_Gave us the power to see_  
_What an amazing future there will be!_

“You are not my dad!” cries Adam. He is scared, but he can handle this. Crowley knows. They must come out on top of things in the end. The demon’s imagination is wild, but for the love of God, there is no way he wants to imagine them losing. Not after six thousand years of living their lives successfully on Earth, writing fake memos and drinking red wine – there’s just no way it was all to end now.

Crowley knows his thoughts are dangerous, but he cannot stop himself from thinking what might be. The boy has learned from other humans, he has become a human. He can do just as good as they could. He could shape reality and the future to his mind – not to some great prophecy of Good or Evil – just to the mind of a child in need of harmony. Adam is their legacy, Crowley thinks, his and Aziraphale’s. He looks for the angel’s hand, but he carries his sword, flaming as ever, in both. Crowley chuckles. It still suits him, that sword. But Earth is still shaking, and Satan’s roar makes their bones tremble.

“You can do it!” Aziraphale encourages Adam, and his firm voice is the one of a chevalier, and sparks something in Crowley. “Say it, Adam!” he calls, tumbling. “Say it again!”

And Adam does. “You’re not my dad. You never were.”

_And in the evening_  
_After the fire and the light_  
_One thing is certain: Nothing can hold back the night_

The night is chilly and eerily peaceful, starry even, and a breeze cools an angel and a demon as they wait for the Oxford bus (that would drive to London anyway). The demon was known as Crowley and he has invited the angel before. He wanted to let him in. He tries one last time: “You can stay at my place, if you like.”

The angel, whose name was Aziraphale, considers it, eyes widening at the offer, but he declines. “I don’t think my side would like that,” he whispers without looking towards Heaven. He isn’t fighting anymore, he didn’t mean it.

They don’t have sides anymore. They only have each other. But was that all so different? Even before the Apocalypse, Crowley figures yet again, all they’ve ever truly had were each other. And still, something has changed tonight.

Aziraphale has agreed to staying with Crowley for the night. They get onto the bus, which really drove to London in the end, and their hands find each other. Tender and comforting.

  
_Time is relentless_  
_And as the past disappears_  
_We're on the verge of all things new_  
_We are six thousand years_

**Author's Note:**

> One of my Billy Joel faves. So peaceful. Listening to it yesterday reminded me of Aziraphale and Crowley :’) This is just a quick drabble, but I really really like the time stopping scene, it’s so lovely and one of my favorite updates to the book.
> 
> My older wips are crying in a corner. Thank you for reading ♡


End file.
